


The Sweatshirt

by Musafir



Series: Carpe Diem Or Not [4]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Brotherly Bonding, Crack Treated Seriously, Cuddles, Feels, Gen, Hypothermia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-30 12:41:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12653706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Musafir/pseuds/Musafir
Summary: Tim works so hard he forgets about things like temperature. Fortunately Big Brother Jason and Big Brother Dick save the day (and his fingers and toes!)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written while I was freezing and wishing I had a Dick and Jason tt____tt

THE SWEATSHIRT

 

Tim sat cross legged on the workout mats in the cave, notes spread around him. He had shifted down to the floor about half an hour ago when the number of his files grew to the point of slipping off the table and he had to lunge to catch a few stacks of papers every few minutes or so. 

 

The case he was working on wasn’t hard per say, it just involved an extensive net of criminals and Tim needed to figure out how to plan his actions so as to not alarm all of them at once. Sometimes the stupider they were, the harder it got; when the low level thugs reported all suspicious activity to their bosses immediately, it made it hard to sneak up on the guys that were really running the show. 

 

But that was okay because Tim had the dossier of every single member of the drug smuggling ring in front of him and could visualize what actions would lead to what consequences. Who said weeks of recon wasn’t worth it?

 

He was also thankful for the quiet which allowed him to think in  _ peace _ . It was late November and the general consensus was that if the cave did not  _ have  _ to be inhabited, it  _ wasn't _ . It got downright frigid at times. And stayed achingly cold for the rest. 

 

Tim had protected himself from the cold as much as he could, but the quiet manner in which he had slipped away from upstairs meant that there had been no time to grab the really heavy jackets or beg a warm drink off Alfred. 

 

He stretched out his bloodless frozen fingers and breathed on them, in a futile attempt to get them to thaw. There were just a few more dossiers left, and the chance that he would get the cave this quiet and to himself again was laughable. 

 

He just had to power through it. 

 

Flipping over a stack of papers, Tim made a note that connected one member to another and leaned forward to write his thought down.  He continued in this manner for quite some time before the pen slipped from his frozen fingers and he felt his bones creak when he tried to bend the joints. 

 

Sighing, he stuck his fingers into his armpits to thaw. It probably would have worked a lot better if there was any shred of warmth left there. Looking around the cave in boredom, he suddenly startled as he saw a sweatshirt hanging over the side of the pommel horse. 

 

_ Yes _ . 

 

How he had overlooked it previously he did not know. It probably spoke to the streamlined state of his mind to get the work done as quickly as possible. Tim scrambled up on stiff legs, taking care to avoid upsetting any of the papers he had filed into sequence and walked toward the sweatshirt. Any layer between him and the frigid air would be beneficial, but he had struck gold because this was  _ the  _ sweatshirt. 

 

No one knew where it came from, Tim suspected that it had been Bruce’s since he had heard Dick’s stories from a time before them, in which the sweatshirt had been used. 

 

It was an overlarge Gotham U sweatshirt, so faded with time and washes that it was nearly impossible to read the letters on the shirt. At one point in time the sweatshirt had been a dark color, but it was mostly a faded grey now. 

 

It was also as close to magic that the Robins got to bring into the cave. It was perfect for working out in, lounging in, wearing after receiving multiple wounds, and any possible other scenario imaginable. 

 

But right now Tim was going to use it to turn himself into a mini space heater, because he knew if he needed it, it would contain his heat for him. 

 

His fingers had just closed onto the hanging sleeve when a sound alerted him and let him know that that there was incoming. Tim looked up and sighed, knowing that his luck had to run out and wishing that it had happened later.

 

He snagged the sweatshirt and walked back to his pseudo work station, hoping to protect it from whoever had ruined his quiet. The roar of a vehicle grew louder until Jason’s bike lights lit up the cave from their entrance and he skidded to a stop, as he usually did, in hopes of ticking someone off.

 

Just as he suspected, Jason immediately turned his face to where Bruce usually hovered by the main computer bank, and then, to Tim’s great amusement, gave a slight pout when he discovered the station to be empty. 

 

The he noticed Tim. 

 

“Timbucktoo!” 

 

Dear god give him  _ strength _ .

 

“Hey Jay.”  

 

“What are you doing down here all by your lonesome?” 

 

“Trying to work.” Tim hoped that if he was blunt enough, Jason would get the message. He turned back to his files and realized that he was still holding the sweatshirt. 

 

Heavy footsteps behind him let him know that he would not be getting his wish. Tim resisted the urge to sigh loudly and turned over the sweatshirt in his hands, intending to wear it and get back to work either way. 

 

Jason would get bored eventually. Tim stuck his head through the bottom and then immediately flailed as hands yanked the sweatshirt in the opposite direction, disorienting him. 

 

“ _ What- _ ...” 

 

“You cold, pretty bird?”

 

Tim glared up at Jason, who was unrepentantly holding the sweatshirt now. 

 

“Well  _ yes  _ Jason, that’s why I was trying to get  _ warmer _ .” 

 

“Aww baby, that’s not how you do it.” Jason said with an impertinent smile, right before tossing the sweatshirt away. Tim glumly noted its short flight to the work table and then turned to berate Jason, before yelping in shock. 

 

Jason enveloped him with both arms, hands rubbing up and down his back. He was like a pillar of warmth which, Tim’s technical brain supplied, made sense since he probably just came from patrol and had blood pumping through his veins. 

 

“Jason...I appreciate it but I can’t  _ work  _ like this.” He ignored the part of him that practically  _ melted  _ into Jason’s embrace. 

 

“Shouldn’t be working down here right now  _ anyway _ . It's almost below freezing. Does Big Bird know where you are?” Jason asked, still not releasing him. 

 

TIm stiffened, “I don’t have to report my actions to Dick,  _ Jason _ .” 

 

“Mmm…”Tim was casually lifted off his feet, “You sure about that? You’re frozen stiff.” Jason started walking towards the elevators calmly. 

 

“Jason!” Tim flailed, trying to get purchase on the smooth leather of Jason’s jacket, unfortunately his fingers currently had the dexterity of blunt icicles. He did his level best to dig them into Jason’s skin anyway. “Put me  _ down _ . I need to finish the  _ work _ . I can’t... _ Jason _ ! I can’t just leave it there!” He refused to believe that his words devolved into a whine. Any one that said so was a goddamn liar. 

 

Tim’s protests fell on deaf ears as Jason single-handedly stripped off the weapons and mask, the other holding Tim secure against his side with embarrassing ease. 

 

“Cool it short stack. Lets just get you upstairs to thaw out from the mini Mr. Freeze impersonation you are doing, then you can go back to drooling over the headshots.” 

 

“I wasn’t  _ drooling- _ ...” 

 

His protests fell on deaf ears the entire way up into the manor and to the game room from which sounds of a first person shooter game were emerging. 

 

“-me  _ down _ ” Tim insisted pointedly, his much warmer fingers now doing a better job of finding purchase and causing as much pain as possible to the solid block of muscle that was Jason’s upper body. 

 

And then Jason abruptly stopped causing Tim to startle and instinctively wrap his arms around Jason’s neck. 

 

“Aww, well will you look at that.” 

 

Turning his head around, Tim noted that Jason had stopped in the doorway of the game room, where Dick was playing an incredibly bloody game involving machine guns and disturbingly real sound effects and Damian was...sleeping peacefully? 

 

He met Jason’s eyes in a mutual ‘the fuck’ gesture, before Dick finally noticed them. 

 

“Oh hey guys! Aww Tim-panda. Gimmie!” The eldest paused his game and reached out with grabby fingers towards Tim. Who recoiled in horror. 

 

Tim did his level best to get the hell out of dodge, but Jason locked his arms around him like the evil maniacal zombie he was. His clumsy uppercuts, damn his frozen arms, were batted away easily and with a smile that  _ screamed  _ of Jason’s amusement at Tim’s predicament. 

 

“No Jason. No,  _ no NO- _ ” He was dumped on to Dick’s lap in a straddle. Immediately all one hundred and eighteen of Dick’s limbs wrapped themselves around him in a parody of a hug. Anyone that had been ensnared before knew that it was, in fact, the jaws of death. Tim forced his numb fingers to keep a death grip on Jason’s jacket forcing the elder to stay hunched over. Dick merrily started to help Jason unhook one finger at a time while holding Tim completely immobile. One. Hundred. And. Freaking. Eighteen. Limbs. 

 

“Careful! He’s an icy little cube, don’t break him. Want to tell me whats going on over there?” Jason said with a grin and an awkward nod over to where Damian was curled up peacefully, somehow still sleeping.

 

If anything Tim would say that the sounds of his screams had helped lull the demon  _ further  _ into rest. 

 

“Why so cold Timmy?” Dick asked, looking at him mournfully, as if there was no greater injustice in the world than Tim’s chilled forearms. The eldest immediately started to give the smaller vigilante a rub down. Tim slumped forward against Dick’s chest, as the last of his fingers were insistently pulled away, and groaned.

 

His non verbal protests were ignored. 

 

“Damian found the sounds of the game to be...calming.” Dick said, answering Jason. They all paused and turned to look at the sleeping boy. 

 

“Well that’s incredibly fucked up.” Jason said, taking a step away to straighten up. Unfortunately this caused a shiver to escape Tim as Jason, and all his emanating body heat, finally left his presence. 

 

“Tim!” Dick pulled him in even closer, and added a bit more force to his kneading fingers. To his utmost horror, Tim found himself starting to shiver harder. He closed his eyes and resigned himself to what he knew was coming. 

 

A third hand suddenly joined the two his back and he knew Jason could feel the slight tremors. 

 

“Babybird.” The tone was dark. “You weren’t shivering  _ before _ . How long were you down there?!” 

 

“Down where?” Tim felt Dick sit up straighter, but didn’t move from where he had his head buried. “What’s going on?” 

 

“Timmy here needs another lesson in how to avoid hypothermia apparently. Just picked him up on my way back from the cave. He wasn’t wearing anything more than what you are seeing now.” Jason said, and Tim could  _ hear  _ the frown in his voice. 

 

“...snitches get stitches.” Tim mumbled. 

 

“I’m sorry what was that?” And that was Dick’s I-Am-Your-Big-Brother-You-Are-In-Big-Trouble voice. “And just a hint, if that wasn’t an apology for needlessly putting your life at risk,  _ don’t repeat it. _ ” 

 

“...I was getting the sweatshirt.” It really was a good excuse. 

 

“What you  _ should  _ have been getting was your ass upstairs.” Or not. “Or at least into some better suited clothes. Think about your poor little fingers and toes!” Dick said, voice bordering on exasperated. 

 

“Aw shit his toes.” 

 

Jason knelt down behind him and pulled off his socks, to his great consternation, and then began to rub the blue tinged flanges. 

 

“Tim they are  _ blue _ .”

 

“...I…” Tim tried to think of why blue toes were bad but the amazing warmth coming off of the hands on said toes were distracting him from complicated thought. Or even thought in general. 

 

Then he winced as a tingly feeling started to permeate the numbness when the blood began to finally circulate. And then the tingly feeling started to turn into stabbing needles. Tim tried to pull his feet away from Jason’s massive hands, only to be stopped with a grip on his ankles. 

 

“Hold still, Tim. You did this to yourself buddy.” 

 

“Murghhhhnngh.” Tim was sure he meant to say something meaningful. But words were escaping him and sounds were much easier.

 

In all honesty he hadn’t noticed it when he started shivering. Or when he had stopped. 

 

But he probably shouldn’t say that. 

 

“Dammit, Tim.” Dick said, and it was times like these that made Tim think Dick had some type of telepathic power. “Jay get in closer and grab me that blanket.” Then to Tim’s utmost horror, Dick tipped him back slightly and then stripped out of his sweatshirt and undershirt. 

 

“Don’t look at me like that Babybird, you  _ know  _ skin on skin contact works best to thaw.” Dick frowned at him like he was the unreasonable one.  

 

“Or you could just get me a heated blanket! It works just as well!” Tim’s voice was  _ not  _ edging towards hysterical thank you very much. 

 

“Hell yes. It’s party time.” Jason said, once again completely ignoring Tim’s protests. Behind him, Tim could feel Jason pulling his clothes off in an over exaggeratedly sexual manner. Dick looked at him and scoffed. Then flexed his pecs. 

 

Tim was ready to flee the country if it meant that he could get out from between whatever insane crazy body competition was happening over his head right now. Cass honestly had the best ideas. Maybe he could start over in Europe. Or Antarctica.  

 

Tim started to slide sideways, hoping to slither off Dick’s lap and out the door while said man was distracted flexing every single ab he had individually. 

 

A hand landed smack on the side of his ribs and tipped him back. Tim most certainly did not flail. 

 

“Whoops, seem to be falling there Timcicle.” Fucking Jason. “And why do you still have these on? I’m beginning to think you really  _ do  _ need that class.” And with that he was relieved of his shirts and jackets. 

 

“J..J...J... _ Jason _ !” The cold air that rushed in left Tim stunned for a few seconds. Which was all the time Dick needed to drag him back so his front was plastered to Dick’s chest and Jason closed in from behind. The blanket settled over the three of them, Dick tucking in the edges to where their hands/ chests, arms, and legs weren’t covering Tim. Suffice to say he did not need to tuck in much. 

 

A few seconds of intense shivering and identifying which of his brother’s hands were where by the callouses at spots where he was beginning to feel again, Tim started to feel the uncontrollable trembling subside. 

 

“That’s it. Easy. Take it easy.” Dick said into his hair. His hands incrementally let up the amount of force he was using to chafe at Tim’s skin. 

 

“Alright Baby Bird?” Jason asked, voice a little too casual. 

 

Tim sighed and said, “I’m fine.” And immediately realized it was the wrong thing to say. A large hand smacked his other side carefully. He knew it was carefully because he had seen first hand what those hands were capable of.

 

“Good.  _ What were you thinking _ ?!” 

 

“I was...the case. It needed it my focus and…”

 

“Oh yeah. Of course. It’s just like that time Dickie. You know. When I was on a call and almost walked into that volcano and  _ didn’t notice that I almost died. _ ” 

 

“I mean. I don’t think it was that ser-...” 

 

“Tim. Don’t.” 

 

Tim obligingly shut his mouth. He could defend himself and say that he definitely would have noticed that his limbs weren't working properly before the situation became anywhere near fatal. But he didn’t want another smack. It didn’t hurt, but with the way that feeling was rushing back in all over his body, the sting would last longer. And he knew Dick was next in line. The eldest held no compunctions about smacking some sense into them. 

 

It was a loving relationship. Really. 

 

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” Dick asked, giving him the Look Of Disapproval. Fortunately, before Tim could open his mouth and worsen the situation; which most certainly would happen because he was pretty sure his brain was also frozen in places, Damian chose to wake up. 

 

“...Why are you molesting Drake?” 

 

As the room devolved into protests from Dick and Jason, with Damian shooting them all disgusted looks, Tim sighed and nestled in further to the pocket of heat created for him. Perhaps the work could wait for a while longer. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Aftermath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops I wrote something!

Tim blinked at the hand that had shoved its way into the cubicle where he was showering after patrol. The hand was holding a robe that probably belonged to Bruce or Jason judging by the amount of material.

 

“Drake. Wear this.” Damian’s demanding voice sounded from behind the privacy barrier. Tim stared, bemused, until the hand started to shake up and down in impatience. Then he reached out and snagged the robe, shutting off the water with his other hand.

 

“Thanks?” He called uncertainty. A derisive sniff was his answer. Tim pulled a towel off the far hook and juggled the robe while toweling himself dry.

 

Donning the robe, he kicked at it where it overflowed past his feet to avoid tripping. With one hand still holding the towel, he loosely tied the robe and stepped out of the shower cubicle.

 

“Hey Jay.” He called, seeing Jason sitting in just cargo pants, trying to apply butterfly bandages to a cut on the back of his shoulder.

 

“Pretty bird. Get your small ass over here and help me with this.” Jason said, holding the bandages out to him.

 

Tim dropped the wet towel on the bench and walked over to examine to wound.

 

“Did you sanitize this properly?” He asked, prodding the edges carefully. Jason manfully held back a wince.

 

“Yeah yeah, Alfie took care of all of that. Had to shower though, so I had to take it all off.”

 

“We have waterproof bandages.” Tim said mildly.

 

“An’ miss the chance ta’ have you run your hands all over me? Think not, baby bird.” Jason said, leaning back and overtly leering at Tim.

 

Tim rolled his eyes and straddled the bench to get a good angle. He shrugged one shoulder to get the robe to slide back from where it was threatening to encompass him and got to work.

 

“That mine?” Jason asked, looking at the robe that was literally dwarfing Tim.

 

“Damian.” Tim deadpanned.

 

“Ah.” Jason huffed a laugh. Damian seemed to be on a one man mission to protect Tim’s virtue ever since he had woken to them trying to bring Tim back from the brink of hypothermia all those weeks ago.

 

As if on cue, a shrill voice sounded; “ _ What is going on here _ ?!”

 

Tim startled a tiny bit, hands moving slightly more forcefully against the wound, and Jason let out a groan.

 

“Oh no, I’m sorry!” Tim said, leaning forward to try and sooth Jason, while simultaneously further dislodging the robe accidently.

 

It had fallen over one shoulder entirely, leaving it bare, and his legs were on display just to the bottom of his upper thighs from where he was straddling the bench. The robe gaped open from the top to where the belt was keeping it together, barely, revealing quite a bit of Tim’s torso.

 

They had all seen each other naked on multiple occasions; this was hardly one for the books.

 

Damian’s expression said otherwise.

 

“What is the meaning of this?” The pint sized assassin demanded, striding up to them furiously.

 

“Can it shortstop. Let Babybird take care of my shoulder and you can take him back to his tower.” Jason said, rolling his eyes.

 

“Jason.” Tim protested, soothing the bandage over Jason’s shoulder firmly before letting go. “Alright, you’re all set. Make sure to rub it with antiseptic if you take it off again before you sleep.”

 

“Drake, I must insist that you arrange your clothing properly.” Damian huffed, face turning red. “There are lechers about.”

 

“Who you calling a lecher, Demon brat?” Jason demanded, holding out an arm for Tim to use to swing himself off the bench. Tim straightened the shoulder and let the front of the robe fall shut, covering him head to toe.

 

“Happy now?” He said to Damian, in an indulgent tone.

 

“I would be happier if you ensured your dignity by yourself. As it is, I see that I will have to personally invest my time until you can be trusted. Come along Drake, we must leave this vicinity. There are gadabouts roaming around.” Damian sniffed superiorly.

 

“Yeah Timmy. Watch out for all those gadabouts.” Jason said, barely holding back the laughter in his voice. The he reached out and grabbed Tim’s arm before he could walk away. “Oh, and Baby Bird-...?”

 

He yanked Tim to him and kissed him full on the mouth, ravaging him for a few seconds before pulling away softly. Tim stumbled in his grip, breathless.

 

“Thanks for the help with the bandages.” Jason said with a shark like smile.

  
“ ** _TODD_** **_!_ ** ” The enraged scream rang through the entire cave, startling the bats into flight.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This is unacceptable!” Damian said, trying to wrest back the forks from Bruce. Bruce held them higher. “Father you must see the issue here! Grayson is practically molesting Drake for the world to see and you are content to let it happen?!”
> 
> “I wasn’t molesting him!” Dick protested.
> 
> “He definitely wasn’t.” Tim agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As Requested!

Tim let out a content sigh as he lay on the ridiculously comfortable lounge chair by the pool. Bruce might believe in doing things the hard way to build character or whatever, but his pool equipment was clearly not lacking, with the latest amenities inches away from Tim. He opened his eyes and looked at the display on his phone. 

 

Good; he still had half an hour. After solving the riddler case the day before, and then staying up all night to type the report, Tim had acceded to give himself an hour of relaxation before jumping to the next project.

 

Alfred had suggested the pool. Alfred was always right. The umbrella shaded him from the direct rays of the run, but the heat danced on his body, sending him deeper into a state of utter relaxation. 

 

A shutter went off. 

 

Tim fought the urge to groan and cracked his eyes open. He let them fall shut again after seeing Dick's unrepentant grinning face inches away from his own.

 

“No.” He said, tilting his face away, as if that would make Dick go away. 

 

“Hiya, Timmy! Whatcha doing?” Dick said, cheerfully swinging a leg over and sitting on his lap. Tim gave an  _ oomph _ as all the air knocked out of his lungs for a second. 

 

“Go away.” He wheezed. “Alfred said I have to be here. I'll tell him you are getting in the way of  _ my rest.”  _

 

It was a legitimate threat. Dick paused with a wounded look on his face. Tim refused to feel bad. 

 

“You wouldn’t do that to me, right little brother?” Dick asked mournfully. Tim turned his face to the side to hide his laugh and another flash went off. 

 

“Dick!” 

 

“That wasn’t me!” 

 

“Whats up losers?” 

 

They both turned to see Jason striding down the walkway in a black leather jacket and jeans. 

 

“You’re going to give yourself heatstroke.” Dick called, rubbing Tim’s flanks with both hands. The motion felt like a massage so Tim allowed it. 

 

“Delete that picture.” Tim called, drowsily. Dick really had magic fingers. He was working a spot that had Tim biting his tongue in effort not to sigh in content.  

 

“And lose my only memento of this wonderful moment? I think not. Whatcha naked birds doing?” Jason asked, leering at them. 

 

“We’re not naked. But you should lose a few layers. It’s going to hit 90 today, little wing.” Dick said, looking at Jason’s all black attire. 

 

Tim cracked his eyes open again. He wore red swimming shorts, that he had no plans of getting wet, and they were pretty hiked up due to Dick being an ass and still sitting on him. Dick’s only nod to modesty was a pair of skimpy electric blue shorts. 

 

Jason looked like he just got off a motorcycle. Dick was right, he was going to get heatstroke if he kept wearing that. 

 

“I think Jay needs to go for a swim.” Tim remarked, mostly because Dick was getting heavy. 

 

Dick perked up and Jason froze. 

 

“Oh you little-...” Jason turned to run. Dick smacked a wet kiss atop Tim’s head and then leapt off of him. Tim fell asleep to the sounds of enraged splashing. 

 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

“Please cease your squirming, Master Timothy.” Alfred gently reprimanded. 

 

“Tim.” Bruce intoned from behind a newspaper. “Hold still.” 

 

Tim reluctantly let Alfred take his arm again. Apparently, when he had fallen asleep, for _ 5 hours _ more than he had planned, his arm had, at some point, fallen out of the shade cast by the umbrella. The resulting sunburn was making him want to kill Dick and Jason, who both sat across from him at the dining table with their best innocent faces. 

 

“There’s a good lad.” Alfred said, applying the rest of the aloe. 

 

“Thanks Alfred.” Tim said, cautiously pulling the slicked up arm back and laying it on the cool gel pad Alfred had brought. “I hate you.” He hissed out of clenched teeth to Dick and Jason. 

 

“What was that Baby bird?” Jason asked loudly. 

 

“I know you took my phone! I had it set to a timer to avoid this very possibility!” Tim seethed. 

 

“We just wanted you to rest more. And you were sleeping so soundly.” Dick said, mournfully. 

 

“Yeah. See?” Jason pulled out his own phone and turned the screen towards Tim, he swiped through a couple images quickly; all showing Tim in various positions, deeply asleep. 

 

“...You’re a creep.” Tim said. 

 

“Jason.” Bruce rumbled. “...encrypt those. And then send them to me.” 

 

“Bruce!” Tim protested over the sound of Dick’s unrestrained laughter. 

 

Before Bruce could justify his position, a loud noise caught all their attention. The doors to the dining hall slammed open and every member of the family was on their feet instantly. 

 

“ **_GRAYSON!”_ ** Came an enraged shout. Tim let his body drop out of the defensive position it had adopted with a roll of his eyes. He saw Jason slump back down into his chair with a muttered curse. Dick looked confused, unsure whether he should sit down or stay on his feet to greet the seething ball of terror striding his way.

 

“Jesus Christ old man, control your spawn.” Jason said to Bruce. 

 

“Jason, be nice. Damian, what's going on?” Bruce asked, also retaking his seat with a sigh that said he knew whatever Damian had to say wasn’t going to be resolved quickly. 

 

Tim was just glad that Damian hadn’t screamed his name. He was pretty sure he could handle angry Damian, even with one arm out of commission, but that didn’t mean he  _ wanted  _ to. 

 

“Father! I demand you evict Grayson from the premises immediately!” Damian shouted, face red. 

 

“What? What did I do, Baby Bat?” Dick asked, hurt. 

 

“Do not call me that you...you unrelenting pervert!” Damian spluttered. 

 

Jason burst into laughter. Tim swallowed carefully, trying to keep the smile off his own face.

 

“Oh, he’s got your number alright.” Jason said, between wheezes. 

 

“Shut up, Walking Dead.” 

 

Jason immediately stopped laughing. 

 

“Oh, it's like that is it?” He said, eyes narrowed, “Well-....” 

 

“Boys!” Bruce’s voice cut through the din, silencing them all. “Everyone quiet. Everyone sit down. Damian, what is the meaning of this? We don’t call each other names in this household.” 

 

Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian exchanged looks, caught in a single moment of solidarity. Then Damian snapped out of it. 

 

“We do if it applies, Father! Have you seen the depravity Grayson has been committing under your very roof?” 

 

“What depravity?!” Dick exclaimed. “I haven’t brought a girl here in ages!” 

 

“You haven’t had a girl in ages, masturbatory wonder.” Jason said snidely. 

 

“Jay. I will hurt you.” Dick said sweetly.

 

“Boys!” Bruce snapped, one hand already up and massaging the bridge of his nose, trying to ward off the impending headache. “Dick. If whatever you are doing with the woman you bring home can be filed under ‘depravity’, we need to have a serious talk. Damian. Do you have any proof backing your accusations?” 

 

“I do! Todd provided it!” Damian said over the sound of Dick’s protests that he wasn’t depraved, pulling his own cell phone out of his pocket and brandishing it. Tim idly wondered where his own phone had gotten to. 

 

Jason shrugged at Dick. 

 

“Don’t look at me. I haven’t seen pint sized all day.” Jason said in response to Dick’s silent question. 

 

“Let me see.” Bruce said wearily. 

 

Damian, and there really was no other word for it, flounced past Dick and Jason and handed his phone to Bruce as if he were presenting evidence at a murder trial. He shoved a finger at the screen which Bruce gently batted away and turned to glare at Dick. 

 

“See, Father! I told you! Todd posted proof of Grayson molesting Drake on social media!” Damian exclaimed. 

 

Tim had, unfortunately, been in the middle of taking his first sip of water of the evening, which he immediately choked on and spit out all over Dick and Jason. 

 

“Oh gross!” 

 

“Eww Timmy!” 

 

“What the hell?” Tim asked hoarsely, trying to clear the water from his lungs.

 

Bruce stared down at the screen with an expression on his face that told them all very clearly that he was wondering why he chose to adopt.

 

“Dick. Tim. Is there anything you want to tell me?” He finally said, eyeing them both carefully.

 

“What?! No!” Dick exclaimed. Tim shook his head emphatically. 

 

“Okay. Please explain this before my headache turns into a migraine.” Bruce said, sliding the phone down the table 

 

Dick and Tim leaned in close to get a look and Damian stared at their lack of distance with beady eyes. Dick started to laugh. 

 

“Oh you asshole! You posted it? Not cool, Jay” He asked, turning to Jason and punching him, not softly, in the shoulder. 

 

Tim turned the phone a bit more in his direction and studied the image. 

 

It was from earlier this morning when Dick accosted him on the chair. In the picture, Dick was straddling Tim, whose long legs were on display. Both their bodies were awash with golden sunlight, and the edge of a deep cerulean pool glittered, offsetting the minimalistic but highly on brand lounge area they were in. From the angle it looked like Tim was entirely naked, and Dick was the only thing protecting his modesty. Tim’s head was turned to the side, so at least he had plausible deniability there, and his face held the signs of laughter. Dick’s entire body, if they had to be picky, was the one on display, with his long, lean, bronzed torso entirely visible, ending right above the barest hint of swell before his shorts came into view.  

 

All in all it looked like an ad for gay porn. Or men’s cologne for men who preferred other men. Or an ad that could sell literally anything to women. As if Jason was reading Tim’s mind, he said gleefully; 

 

“You know, I got a few emails from different magazine companies begging me for the rights to the picture. I’m going to get them in a bidding war and see how high they can go.” 

 

“Jason you are not allowed to use your brothers to turn a profit.” Bruce said immediately. 

 

“You want to stop me? Make me an offer, old man.” 

 

“...I’ll match and double your highest bidder.” Bruce said, rolling his eyes. “So I am to understand this this was a simple moment of camaraderie between brothers, distorted by the limited view of the lens, correct?” 

 

“Yes!” Tim said immediately, turning the phone away. “I was wearing clothes. And Dick was just being an ass.” 

 

“And what a wonderful pair of skimpy red shorts they were.” Jason leered, and then flinched as a spoon hit him on the head. “Ow! Wanna try that again, Demon brat!” 

 

“Boys! Enough.” Bruce said, trying to head off the cutlery war before it became a thing. 

 

“This is unacceptable!” Damian said, trying to wrest back the forks from Bruce. Bruce held them higher. “Father you must see the issue here! Grayson is practically molesting Drake for the world to see and you are content to let it happen?!” 

 

“I wasn’t molesting him!” Dick protested. 

 

“He definitely wasn’t.” Tim agreed. “That happened right after Jay took the picture. Remember? You gave me that rubdown? Thanks by the way, I had a knot in my upper thigh you took care of.” Tim smiled sincerely at Dick. 

 

“Why do you hate me?” Dick said mournfully to Tim seconds before Damian let out an enraged wordless scream and leapt on him, accidentally clipping Jason in the face with his elbow along the way.

 

“I hope Alfred made soup.” Tim remarked to Bruce, adjusting his cool gel pad on his burnt arm. 

 

“Tim. You have to be nicer to your brothers.” Bruce said, with the barest hint of amusement in his voice. 

 

“Whatever do you mean?” Tim said, looking up with wide eyes.

 

Bruce shook his head at him and sat back, content, and picked up the paper again. At his side, Tim hummed agreeably and watched the fearsome vigilantes of Gotham flail at each other with vindication. 


End file.
